To the Open Arms of the Sea
by Lothiriel84
Summary: "You're Patrick Jane, aren't you? Your wife and child have been murdered by the serial killer Red John." - AU. Written for the Countdown to The Mentalist Season 6 on redjohnlovesyou. The title is a quote from the song "Unchained Melody" by The Righteous Brothers, which is featured in the "Ghost" movie soundtrack. Warning: there will be mentions of suicide attempt.


It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for Teresa Lisbon to spend the evenings in her office, catching up with paperwork or studying case files. She liked the quiet of the empty bullpen better than the loneliness of her apartment; even though she would rather die than admit she regretted choosing her career over starting a family, it didn't change the fact that deep down that was exactly how she felt.

And yet, commitment wasn't her strong suit either; she'd been about to marry a guy once, but ended up running away the night before the wedding. Chasing criminals was easier than making up her mind about a man, and most of her dates weren't exactly comfortable with her control freak personality and her bossy attitude.  
However, there was a silver lining to her current predicament. She liked her job, and her superiors agreed that she was definitely good at it; the fact that she didn't have a family meant that she could devote herself entirely to the career of her choice.

That was one of the reasons why she was currently running through the notes about the latest case that had been dropped into their lap. Serial killers were usually bad enough, but this one was more obnoxious than most; he left no evidence whatsoever on the crime scenes, except for his trademark signature drawn in the victims' blood.  
That was why Sac PD had recently handed the case over to the CBI, and she already suspected it would turn into her worst nightmare; unsolved cases always annoyed her, especially when she had no clues to work on.

With a sigh she reached for the mug of coffee that was resting on her desk, only to stop dead in her tracks when her eyes fell on the figure standing before her in the half-light. A sudden chill ran down her spine, and her fingers instinctively searched the gun she kept at her side.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

She didn't dare to voice another even more pressing question; how had the stranger managed to get into the building, let alone get past the locked door to her office?

"I mean no harm," the man uttered softly, raising his palms as a token of peace. "I just wanted to have a word with you."

That was when she noticed the fact that his body wasn't nearly as solid as it was supposed to be; in fact his silhouette was definitely translucent, and she could see the dim outline of the office blinds behind him.

"Great, now I'm hallucinating. I should start cutting down caffeine sooner or later."

"I'm not a figment of your imagination."

"I don't believe in ghosts, if that's what you're hinting at," she said dryly. "Nor do I have the time to deal with them, unless they're a victim in one of my cases and can provide me with some information about their murderer."

The man shook his head, then ensconced himself among the cushions of her couch. "I'm not exactly dead; not yet, at the very least. Anyway, that has little to do with what we need to discuss."

Lisbon didn't answer at once, took the time to study his features instead; she had a feeling she knew him from somewhere, even though she didn't recall actually meeting him. She couldn't deny he was a very handsome guy, with his blonde curls and sparkling sea green eyes; the three-piece suit he was wearing only added a touch of elegance to his figure.

It was only when she noticed the wedding band on his finger that something finally clinched in her mind; with a sudden inspiration she flipped through the pages of the case file until she found exactly what she was looking for.

"You're Patrick Jane, aren't you? Your wife and child have been murdered by the serial killer Red John."

A wry grin touched the other's lips. "For a cop, you definitely are good. I'm glad I've decided to come here after all."

"If you really are a ghost, what happened?" she frowned. "Did you…?"

Mr. Jane tapped a finger at the corner of his mouth. "I tried to take my own life, yes. I didn't quite succeed though; the doctors are keeping me in a medical induced coma, but they're not sure whether I'm going to make it through."

A lump settled in Lisbon's throat; while she didn't approve of suicide, she still felt for the man that had been so brutally robbed of his beloved family.

"I can't see how I can help you. I'm not a doctor."

"Doctors are nothing more than charlatans. What I need is closure, so that I can finally move on."

Another shiver ran through her, and she quickly averted her gaze. "You mean pass away."

"Whatever."

"Why should I do that?"

He paused until she made eye contact once more. "Catching Red John is your job, right? I think we share a goal here."

"So you're suggesting that we team up?"

"Why not? You could use my help as much as the other way round."

"Okay," she shrugged at last.

"We have a deal then," he grinned and stood up. "See you around, Agent."

Lisbon watched in disbelief as he walked right through the door, then banged her head onto the desk. She had a sinking feeling that she was up for such trouble as she had never dealt with in her entire life.

xxx

"It's that forensic guy, I tell you."

A sigh escaped from her lips, and not for the first time. "May I ask why do you think that?"

Patrick Jane only shrugged. "He's a ghoul. And he has shifty eyes."

"You can't accuse a man on that basis. I know you don't like him, but what we really need is evidence."

"A pity that Red John doesn't give us any. Perhaps we should ask him to."

"Spare me your sarcasm."

He shrugged again, his fingers ghosting the rim of her mug. "I'm in a coma. Humor me."

Lisbon bit her lip, then looked him straight in the eyes. "Why don't you try and wake up?"

A humorless laugh fell from his mouth. "It's not as simple as that, my dear."

"Have you ever tried?"

His silence was enough answer to her. She closed the distance between them and sat down beside him on the couch.

"I'm very sorry for your loss, Jane. And yet I'd like you to consider the idea that life goes on, sometimes."

"Please. My wife and daughter were slaughtered because of my rash words. I'm the last person who deserves a second chance at life."

She shook her head stubbornly. "Every human being deserves another chance. And I know that, deep down, you're a good man."

"Don't grow too fond of me, Lisbon. I don't want you to end up bringing flowers onto my grave once a week."

"You're not dead," she said brusquely. "Stop talking like that."

"As you wish."

The truth was that during the past few weeks she'd been trying to save him rather than catch the serial killer they were chasing.  
The fact that Jane had attempted suicide in hot despair didn't mean that he didn't want to live anymore, and she was sure he would choose life if he were given the opportunity. He only needed someone to help him see all the good things that his life could have in store if only he allowed himself another chance.

She prayed that she could actually succeed in her self-appointed mission; she knew she would never forgive herself if she didn't.

xxx

Lisbon was staring at her reflection in the mirror when she caught a glimpse of the figure standing behind her.

"Jane!" she yelled, her hand instinctively covering her chest. With only a towel wrapped around her she felt incredibly exposed, no matter whether the man who was currently staring at her was real or a mere ghost.

Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink as she felt his eyes travel up and down her body, his pupils dark with something she'd never seen in him before.

"You're beautiful, you know. Even though you always struggle to hide the fact."

"Jane," she warned him again, but it didn't sound convincing even to her own ears.

She watched in fascination as he stretched a hand and traced the contours of her bare shoulder; even though she didn't feel his touch, she couldn't bite back a shiver of excitement.

"Take that thing away."

"Come on," she laughed throatily. "You're a ghost, you can't seduce me."

"I can try."

His lips felt like the memory of an icy breeze on her skin, and her eyes fluttered shut of their own accord. She tried to reciprocate the kiss, then huffed in frustration when she was faced with the fact that she just couldn't.

"That's not fair," she grumbled. "I can't make love to someone that won't be touched."

"Let me," he said with a mischievous grin.

A low moan fell from her lips as he resumed his previous exploration of her skin. Her fingers made quick work of the towel, and she couldn't help but smirk when she saw the genuine appreciation written all over his face.

Then she let herself go completely, surrendering to sensation for what was probably the first time in her life.

xxx

"I've seen him. Brett Partridge is Red John, as I said."

"We still have no evidence."

"But we will. You just have to keep tabs on him, that's all."

"He'll suspect."

"No, he won't. He thinks he's too smart, and that will be his downfall."

"Doesn't that remind you of a certain someone?"

He didn't answer, just kept pacing backwards and forwards. "We'll get to him, Lisbon," he said at last.

"I suppose we're lucky that you can't carry on your early plan of murdering him then."

"You don't understand. He killed my wife and child."

Lisbon shook her head defiantly. "Taking his life won't bring them back. You should have thought twice before deciding to slash your wrists anyway."

"And they say that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"I'm being serious, Jane."

"Says the one who shares the bed with a ghost."

"You're hopeless," she shrugged in annoyance, then walked away from him.

xxx

"Behind you, Lisbon!"

His cry made her spin around in the nick of time, just before Partridge struck his blow. The judo class she'd attended in her youth came in handy all of a sudden; her attacker fell ruinously at her feet, stabbing himself in the process.  
It was over before she could dig out her cellphone and call 911.

"Looks like you were right," she said at length, still kneeling beside the body of their opponent. "We've caught Red John."

"So we have," he replied slowly, and she wasn't sure whether he felt relieved or merely disappointed.

Lisbon rubbed her palms against the fabric of her pants. "What now?"

"I don't know."

They didn't look at each other as they waited for the rest of the team to arrive on the scene. When she was done talking with her colleagues, the medical officers and the coroner's staff, she wasn't surprised at all to find out that Jane was nowhere to be seen.

He'd reached his goal, while she had failed her own; she didn't expect him to come back again.

xxx

She hated hospital rooms. That was where her mother had spent her last moments after the car crash, and where she'd been witnessing the losing battle for her father's life after he'd decided to hang himself with a scarf.

That didn't change the fact that she'd been spending the last few days at Patrick Jane's bedside, and she still marveled at how fragile he looked surrounded by tubes and beeping monitors.  
She threaded her fingers through his unruly curls, marveling at how soft they felt in spite of all the time he'd been lying in that bed suspended between life and death.

Somehow she was marginally surprised that he hadn't kept his promise yet; being reunited with his family was what mattered most to him, though she still clung to the faint hope that he might decide that life was worth it after all. And not only because of the stolen kisses she'd been sharing with his ghost.

"You'd better go home, ma'am," the doctor murmured in the tone he specially reserved for grieving relatives. "He's not going to die overnight."

However, she was well aware that it was only a matter of time before they decided to pull the plug if there wasn't any relevant improvement to his conditions. Perhaps that was exactly what Jane would want, if he had any saying on the matter.

She waited for the doctor to step out of the room before brushing her lips on his brow and squeezing his hand one last time. Her heart almost stopped when his fingers twitched slightly; then he murmured something in his sleep.

"Lisbon," he called, as if from far away.

A smile broke onto her face amid the tears, and she ran her thumb across the back of his hand.

"I'm here, Jane. Wake up."


End file.
